Love Moves to London
by ProfessorFox
Summary: Anwar and Maxxie are living the good life in London and the pair has never been tighter. Then, Maxxie is kidnapped and Anwar sets out to find him while he still can. Throughout his journey of pain and discovery, Anwar faces a horrifying possibility: he may never see Maxxie again. Warning: violence, swearing, and slight OOC for Anwar.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Love Moves to London  
**Author:** ProfessorFox  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Warnings:** Nothing huge. Blood and suspense.  
**Genre:** Suspense/Romance  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Skins or any of its content.  
**Summary:** Anwar and Maxxie are living the good life in London and the pair has never been tighter. Then, Maxxie is kidnapped and Anwar sets out to find him while he still can. Throughout his journey of pain and discovery, Anwar faces a horrifying possibility: he may never see Maxxie again. Warning: violence, swearing, and slight OOC for Anwar.

**?**

It's always been this way. I've always had no choice but to watch from afar. It's simply unfair. I have every right to be happy just like every other bloody person in the world. It's simply unfair. It's unfair that I have to watch as the love of my life goes on merrily without me. What did I ever do to deserve this!?

Well, I'm not going to take it anymore. I've traveled this far…and I'm not going to let my happiness slip away from me. Even if I have to use this knife…

**Maxxie**

I lay down on the living room couch, wiping trickles of sweat from my forehead after an exhaustive day of dancing, my greatest passion. The entire apartment is quiet, with only the sound of the moving cars outside to keep me company. I look out the balcony door glass from the couch to see that it is nighttime here in London and my best mate, Anwar, should be coming home soon. I reminisce to myself about how I got to where I am now. Lying here with one hand resting on my forehead and the other lazily limping off the couch, I recall everything with a dopey smile on my face.

Life in London has had its ups and downs for sure but, for the most part, I'm actually really happy here. Sure, I found out my (now-ex) boyfriend, James, cheated on me and we broke up but that was over three bloody months ago. I still shudder at the disgusting thought of it all but I'll be damned if I'm going to pity myself over that arsehole for months. Besides, pretty much everything else is going beautifully. I landed a dancing role in the Lion King musical at one of the West End Theatres, I've been keeping in touch with my friends back home in Bristol, and my best mate Anwar and I are having a shit-load of fun. The bloke even landed a job as a bartender near our apartment! Everything was spot-on!

"Maxxie, I'm back!" Anwar says, while walking through the apartment door. I turn to him, wondering if maybe I thought a bit too soon.

Anwar runs up to me excitedly. He clearly ran the entire way, I noticed. "Maxxie! Maxxie, you'll never believe this!" His voice was breathy from running so much and he clamped on to my shoulders as if the lovable git just saw the most amazing thing ever.

"What is it, Anwar?"

"I just got us invitations to a party!" He stands there with wide eyes, all proud of himself, while I try desperately not to laugh. That was it?

"Is that all?" I say.

"Maxxie, it's not just any party…there are going to be Russian belly-dancers there!" As my mate's face brightens up, I roll my eyes and laugh a bit in my head. Typical Anwar.

"Anwar, I don't care about the Russian belly-dancer girls."

"Oh come on, Maxxie! Please! Help a mate out!"

"With what? You don't need me to go. Besides, there wouldn't be much for me to do there since…" I stop just as the words come close to leaving my mouth. Anwar used to be very homophobic around me and the whole topic put a strain on our friendship for a while. Over time, he got used to it and stopped caring. He even helped me out after I found out James cheated on me by kicking his ass (_Anwar can fucking kick_). But the subject still seemed a bit awkward to talk about with him and that's why I hesitated. He realized what I was about to say, though.

"I'm sure there will be…some guys there…come on, Maxxie. I just want my best mate to be with me. You know how much of a wreck I am without you," he says, making us laugh our arses off. It was true. Anwar needs me.

"Yeah, that's true. You need a mate to make sure you don't do something too stupid," I say, beaming a half-hearted smile at him. He took it, however, and started preparing for the party.

"Wait, when is this party?" I ask.

"Right now!"

And with that, Anwar and I grab our shit and leave the apartment. We head down to the main floor and dash out to the nearest bus stop. We get our seats, mine being next to the window to Anwar's frustration. He sits down next to me and I stare out at the starry, night sky, barely noticing how Anwar's leg accidently rubs against mine. He didn't seem to notice (or care) at all but _I_ certainly did…more than I would like to admit.

Anwar is too busy staring at one of the other passenger's boobs to notice me staring at him in a similar manner. After a long, drawn-out moment of this, he looks back at me with a smile and says, "Hey, Maxxie, remember that one time you and I were running from the police and you nearly drove us into a brothel."

"Shut up you arsehole," I say playfully. "You're not much better. You nearly drove us into a river one time."

"That doesn't count. I was completely fucked up that time. _You_ were sober."

"Oh, piss off, Anwar."

He laughs. "Good times, huh, Maxxie?"

"Definitely." I smile at him (a little longer than I think is necessary) before turning my head back to the window. Anwar goes back to looking at the woman and I wonder to myself if I'm reading these signs quite right. I hope not. Recently I've noticed that I would occasionally steal glances at Anwar at times like this and, for a long time, I thought nothing of it. But now I'm starting to notice it more often and I hate that. Anwar is my best mate, after all. But there are also days where I almost wish…we could be just a tad bit more.

The party is wild and fucking ace! Everything is fun and crazy and…bloody hell there's pizza stains on the ceiling! There are loads of people here, half of them probably illegally. The pulsing music makes my heart pound and it's all so brilliant! I take a few shots…and then some more. Fuck it! Then, I'm dancing. I dance like a git, of course.

Anwar takes me to the side. We head to the kitchen where only five or so couples are making out. Not a lot. My mate looks to me and says, "Maxxie, I need your help!"

I fall to the ground, laughing my arse off. "You got to be bloody joking! You need my help all the time," I say, slurring my words. I think. Anwar looks at me. I think he's concerned. Can't tell. I just smile back. Yeah, too much to drink.

"Maxxie, you're drunk off your arse…"

"Yes, I am…now why aren't you?" I start laughing again, thinking everything is bloody hysterical!

Anwar puts his hands back on my shoulders. He talks to me about something but I barely listen. He says something about needing me. And then something else. Um. About a hot, Russian belly-dancer? I don't pay attention. Too many words. I only focus on how big and manly his hands feel. Bloody hell. So forceful. I love it. And now his lips too look…so…so…I…

I taste wet lips on mine. Some booze too. I love booze so I keep going. I forget who I'm kissing. I keep going for another second. Or minute. Or hour. I forget. Then I stop. I open my eyes and I see Anwar. What? Anwar? Then I wonder…what the bloody hell is Anwar kissing me for? He looks at me with a weird face. He looks shocked. Why is he shocked? Then Irealize _I_ kissed him. I kissed Anwar…I kissed my best mate and…no…no…

My legs start moving away. I start to understand what has happened. My cheeks and eyes feel wet as I run away. I hear Anwar calling my name but I don't stop. I can't stop. I keep crying. And I keep running. I just keep running. Just keep running. I can't look back. It hurts too much to look at him. Shit, I messed up! Good fucking job, Maxxie! You ruined your friendship forever you fucking twat!

I'm back at the apartment. I walk to my bedroom and fall on the mattress. I wipe my tears away and try to fall asleep. Forget today ever happened. Just forget everything…and hope Anwar forgives me.

I hear a knock at the door. I listen for a voice, hoping it's not him. And it's not! It's some woman. I leave my room and move to the door. I can't make out what she says. Too many words to follow. She says to open it. So I do.

And then I feel a pain shoot from my side. I look down and only see blood.


	2. Chapter 2

**Anwar**

I run after him but it's no good. I eventually lose him among the crowd. The taste of Maxxie's lips still lingered on my own and it was still unbelievable. I didn't know what to think other than…well, it wasn't that horrible. That kind of surprised me, actually. Not just the kiss but the fact that I wasn't nearly as disgusted by it as I thought I'd be…as I should have been.

I thought I didn't have to worry about shit like this happening when I came to London with Maxxie. He had James and I was okay with that. But then the arsehole cheated on him and I had to unleash my martial arts skills on the fucker. I got him with a real nice kick, too! And then all was well. Maxxie got over James eventually and we had never been tighter.

But then something changed. It was a very subtle change but damn I noticed it. Maxxie and I started looking at each other oddly. I even caught him staring at me a couple of times. Though, that may have been because I sometimes looked at him funny too. I can't really describe the look or what emotion was behind it. I think it was something like sympathy, though. Maxxie had been through a lot what with the whole stalker thing back in Bristol and then James left him (_after getting a thorough _ass_-beating, of course!). _How could I _not_ feel bad for him?

So I started inviting him out more, introducing him to some really cool friends of mine down at the bar I now work at, and I even started going to his play rehearsals even though I don't much like musical theatre…at all. I ruffled his hair and cheered him up with my dumb jokes and batshit insane adventures in my attempts to get laid. And hell it worked! Maxxie got over James faster than I thought he would and in about two month's time, he almost always had a smile on his face. He sure did smile a lot at me…

Oh bloody hell. So _that's_ what that was! All that smiling and staring and the fact that he got over James quickly and…oh bullocks. Maxxie fell in love with me! No, it's worse than that. Maxxie fell in love with me and I've been leading him on! Or at least, I made it easier for Maxxie to like me. It all makes sense now.

Well, that's just fantastic, Anwar! First, you accidently lead on your best mate and then you let him kiss you and run away, possibly ruining your entire friendship!

Well, maybe it isn't as bad as I thought. The kiss wasn't that bad and Maxxie _was _drunk off his arse. It was just one little mistake. All I had to do was tell Maxxie that it wasn't a big deal and to forget that it ever happened. It was no use to lose each other over something like that. Yeah, that should work. I'll just tell him that.

Knowing Maxxie, he probably just went back to the apartment so, after leaving the party, I trail down the busy London sidewalks. I desperately wave to any cab that drives by but none of them pick me up. Three of the seven or so drivers I tried to hail even rolled down their windows and screamed, "Not a chance you Iranian terrorist!" or some variation of that.

"I'm Pakistani you twat!" I scream. This was getting ridiculous. Maxxie and I were never perfectly identical but if there's one thing we share for sure it's our hatred for being treated like crap for being a minority. Though, Maxxie always took it in total stride. I just kicked their asses. He and I would often "argue" over which method was better until we laughed our arses off.

After another _ten bloody tries,_ I finally land a cab and ask to be taken to my apartment. The cab driver was a young, 20-ish something looking guy with an optimistic smile and short, curly brown hair. He was pretty nice, driving me to my desired location without making a fuss about me being Paki or trying to talk to me when I'm clearly just in the mood to get where I want to be. He seemed like the kind of guy that Maxxie would like…why would I even think about that?

The thought kind of disturbs me, actually. The idea of Maxxie being with another guy just seems so…wrong to me. It was especially weird since, being in London for a few months, I've grown used to seeing gay couples walk around holding hands and shit. That never bothered me all that much but Maxxie was different. Maybe it's because he's my best mate and I'm just naturally protective of him? No, it's deeper than that.

I think back to the time Maxxie first introduced us to James and how it made me feel uncomfortable. Maxxie was with some random guy I never even knew and it just made me feel…I don't know. Even when we moved to London it still felt kind of odd but I pushed it aside for Maxxie's sake. Over time, I eventually became okay with it all until that fucker cheated on my Maxxie.

I rest my head on the window of the still moving cab. Ugh, just how far away is this apartment?

"Sorry it's taking so long. London traffic today is bloody brutal," the cab driver says. For a moment I thought he read my mind but I brushed off the thought. I've been yawning throughout the whole drive home without even realizing it till now and resting my head probably gave me away. The party wore me out and so is all this thinking.

"It's fine. We'll get there soon enough," I say patiently.

I think back to the kiss again. I was going to ask Maxxie for advice on how to present myself to one of the Russian belly-dancers that was so definitely eyeing me. I've specifically been described as a "high-class sex god"… or something like that (I was a bit busy at the moment! My imagination picked up the rest), but either way, I have no problem when it comes to the actual deed. The _journey_ there, however, has always been a weak spot of mine that I always had Maxxie to help with and rely on. He'd help me look presentable, give me the confidence to grow a pair, and bring out the girl's more adventurous side by using his social charisma. I always envied that gift of his.

But today, Maxxie was drunk and barely understood a word I said to him. He seemed more preoccupied with my hands on his shoulders and eventually my own bloody lips. He came on to me before I could really react but he seemed to linger there for a while.

I could've pulled away I guess…in fact, I probably should have. Why didn't I, as a matter of fact? I was never up for kissing him before or during. So what happened? Maxxie was sure taking his sweet old time about it. He kept gently nibbling at my upper lip until they were swollen and then he moved to the lower one. The taste of booze was obviously there but there was still another distinct taste alongside it. It was just Maxxie's wet lips, sure, but it still stood out to me. I can actually still taste it just a little bit. It's literally right on the tip of my tongue and I had let it get there in the first place. Why didn't I just move away when Maxxie practically pecked my mouth off-

Wait a minute. It can't possibly be…shit. I look down at my loose, black sweatpants, not happy with what I'm seeing.

"You okay back there?" the driver asks, looking back at me.

I quickly put my arms over my legs and say, "Wha-what! Yeah! Keep driving!"

The driver obviously noticed how frenzied my voice was but I don't care. I have every right to be freaking out right now. I mean…what the fuck!? Why am I liking this? These thoughts reeked nothing but gay and here I am covering my sweatpants and making it very obvious what I'm trying to do. And worst of all, it's Maxxie! That's just…that's just…weird-ish…huh.

Come to think of it, it's not _that_ weird. I mean, it's still incredibly gay but…it wasn't bad. No, it really wasn't that bad at all, actually. Maxxie's lips were kind of like a girl's or at least they felt like it. The only weird part about it was how sudden it was but otherwise it wasn't gross at all. I bet I would have even liked it if I knew it was coming and prepared for it…wait what am I saying!? Where is all this coming from!? I'm not gay! I love girls! I love girls and knockers and flowing blonde hair kinda similar to Maxxie's only longer and…wait. Ah, shit.

Maybe I _am_ a bit gay for Maxxie (or bi or whatever the bloody term is). I mean…there was that one time he and I went on that trip to Russia and I got a boner while he was sleeping on my shoulder. I tried to blame it on the vibrations of the airplane when Maxxie noticed (even though there weren't any at the time) but Maxxie made a joke of it. I decided to change the subject, growing uncomfortable, and the moment passed. I didn't know what gave me that hard-on at the time but now it seems kind of clear to me now. Maxxie _did _look somewhat cute sleeping on my shoulder so peacefully like that, even though I tried to ignore him most of the flight.

"We're here, sir," the driver says cheerfully, breaking me out of my thought train. I thank him and exit the car. Walking up to the sidewalk, I silently thank the driver for interrupting my thoughts. All this thinking was getting mentally exhausting. I reach the front door of the apartment building and make my way to the staircase, where I climb eight or so floors until finally reaching mine.

With the door to the room now in my line of sight, I decide to think about this whole bloody mess later. Maxxie is probably asleep by now since it took me so long to get here what with taking the time to try and hail a cab and then getting caught up in traffic. I don't see much use in waking him up since I'm about ready to collapse too. I walk through the door, ready to just glide on over to my bedroom and lay there like a rock. I'm only two steps through the door and I instantly stop.

I can tell that my shoes just stepped in a puddle but my brain takes disturbingly longer to process what I see when I look down and see that the puddle is red. I notice how quiet the apartment is and panic shoots through my spine in a matter of seconds. I storm through to Maxxie's room, fearing the worst possible scenario.

I get there and he's gone! I search throughout the rest of the apartment just to be sure but he's nowhere to be found. He just vanished. Maxxie is gone! Fuck! _Fuck! _My best mate is gone and I don't know _what the fuck_ I'm going to do. I can't lose him. I just can't. Not Maxxie!

I turn back to the kitchen near the front door and scramble for the phone. I dial the police.

* * *

**Thanks again to anyone who has read this fic. I apologize if you feel that Anwar is a bit too OOC but I'm trying my best to make it seem plausible. Please Review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Maxxie**

I wake up wondering what the hell happened that got me here. It didn't take long for the pain near my stomach to resurface and strip me of all my concentration. I look down for the wound. I see my body covered in tight, binding rope. My shirt is off and my injury is bandaged. I'm sitting on a chair and my hands are tied uncomfortably behind my back. I look around the room. I can tell I'm in a used apartment very different from my own because the chair is placed next to a disheveled bed and the layout is unfamiliar. The lights are on but the apartment is totally quiet. Not even a pin drop of noise. Where in the world am I?

My mouth is filled with somebody's sock and covered with duck tape. Whoever did this to me is fucking disgusting, that's for sure. I look out the window and see that the sun is slowly rising, filling the sky with its red, blazing aura. It was around dawn now.

Suddenly I hear a noise coming from outside the apartment. The sound of clanking metal. Someone was unlocking the door. This was it. This was the person who brought me here. I try to remember last night's events but it's all too blurry. I have no idea who hurt me. No idea why I'm here. All I can do is wait for the person who tied me here to open the door. Then turn the corner and…

Oh fuck!

"Hello, Maxxie. I see you're awake now," Sketch says.

I try my best to shout out all of my fury but my voice is too muffled. Sketch walks up to me and says, "Oh, let me fix that for you." She rips off the tape, leaving a huge, painful mark on my face no-doubt. I spit out the sock and discover, to my absolute worst horror, that it was my own. _The bloody bitch took off my own sock and stuck it in my fucking mouth!_ That's it.

"HELP! SOMEBODY HELP! I'VE BEEN KIDNAPPED BY A PSYCHO BITCH!" I can't possibly scream any louder. The stab wound begins to ache and burn once again as I withdraw for breath.

"I'm afraid nobody else is here, Maxxie. This place is practically dead these days."

"What about the owner? Or the janitors or-"

"All gone."

"What did you do to them?" I say, fearing the worst possible scenario. Sketch _did _attack me with a knife.

"Honestly, Maxxie, stop worrying about them. They can't bother us now. That's all that matters."

Ignoring her, I try and wiggle my hands free from the ropes. It was no use. I have so many questions floating through my head but the fear is getting to me. I can't even speak.

"Stop struggling," Sketch says, putting her hands on my shoulders. All I want to do is pry them off and use them to bash her head. "Why can't you just accept my love?"

"Maybe it's because you're a freaking psycho! Maybe it's because you stabbed me and tied me to this chair! Or maybe, just maybe…it because you're a freaking girl!" I bring my face closer to hers so she can see the serious amounts of rage I'm holding toward her. This isn't the first time Sketch has gone after me but this is the first time she's gone _this far. _She's totally lost it. "Why can't you just accept that I don't love you!?"

"Well isn't _that_ rich! You fall in love with your straight best friend and even kiss him but _I'm _the psycho who should accept that I'll never be loved!?"

I shot up straight in my seat, taken aback by Sketch's observation. _Observation!_ She's been fucking stalking me for how long!? Clearly a while since she knows such intimate details. She even knows about…the kiss. How is that possible? My face crinkles up in terror once more and Sketch clearly notices.

"That's what I thought," she says, grinning over her apparent victory. I couldn't think of anything to say. I couldn't think anything at all really. Anything except for where Anwar. I wonder if he's even noticed that I'm gone. Or if he even cares. Probably not. Nobody cares about the missing fag in the real world. James didn't care. Anwar doesn't care. The only one who "cares" is this insane girl who stabbed and kidnapped me. I'm so defeated at this point that I barely notice Sketch talking.

"Don't get too comfortable, Maxxie. Tonight, we're leaving London for good. Together."

**Anwar**

I'm outside of the apartment building. I had to be moved out and taken to the interrogation room once the police arrived. The area was a crime scene after all. They asked me loads of questions. How did I know Maxxie? Why were we living together? When did I last see him? Some of the questions were annoying to answer (especially the ones that were repeated) but I answered them all to the best of my ability. The detective who asked me all these questions I learned was named Jeremy Archer. After talking to Detective Archer, I was allowed to go free. I headed straight back to the apartment and now I'm staring at our room's window, unsure of what to do anymore. Unsure of what to think. Of how I was gonna get through this.

During the course of the interrogation, Detective Archer asked me if I knew anybody who could have done this to Maxxie. I told them about the time Maxxie had a stalker back where we used to live but I told them it was probably unlikely for it to be her. She had a sick mother to take care of back in Bristol and wouldn't just abandon her. They decided to look into it anyway and the detective gave me his number and asked for mine so we could keep in touch. I promised to call if I needed to but I doubt I ever will.

I call up my co-worker, Andy, to ask if I could crash at his place for the night. When he says yes, I walk lazily to his house which isn't too far from the apartment. But my mind isn't with me. I'm stuck on auto-pilot because I can't deal with the idea that Maxxie could be out there…bleeding…scared…alone. And that was the worst part of it. Oh Allah…what would anyone want with my Maxxie!?

**Maxxie**

"How do you expect me to just go along with all of this?" I say. Sketch gives me a matter of fact stare, as if I had just asked the most obvious question in the world. Bitch.

"You really don't have much of a choice. Honestly, did you think I came here without some kind of a plan?"

"No doubt it's a really stupid one. What are you going to do? Dress up as Anwar and hope I'll fall in love with you that way?" I honestly wouldn't be surprised if she tried that. When she was dating Anwar back in Bristol, she had him dress up exactly like me to make up for the fact that I rejected her. I knew I should have called the cops on her. Oh bloody hell…I couldn't though. Her mom was sick and needed her. Actually, that was a good point…

"Who's watching over your mom right now anyway?"

Sketch put on a grim face. "I'm afraid nobody is. She's dead."

Wow. I actually feel bad. Not as much for Sketch as for the mom, of course. The poor woman was so sick and bed-ridden that she had no chance of controlling her daughter's psycho behavior. No husband to fill the role for her either. My sympathy, however, didn't stop me from wanting to kick the crap out of her daughter though.

Sketch quickly composed herself again. "Don't change the subject. We were talking about how you have no other choice but to come with me."

"Just because your mom died, doesn't mean I pity you enough to love you-"

"Oh lord no, that's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about how you probably don't want Anwar to get hurt…"

I immediately shut up. It was bullocks. It had to be. Total bullshit! She couldn't possibly-

"Did you think I was working alone? I'm not. There's no way I'm leaving your side until ten o'clock tonight, Maxxie, but that doesn't mean I still can't have it done."

"Have what done? Who the fuck would work with you!? Why the fuck-"

Sketch put a patronizing index finger to my lips to keep me quiet. She grinned and shhhh'ed me like a freaking child. God, I needed a bat or something. She stared into my eyes and whispered to me as if I would appreciate her quiet voice.

"There are many things you don't know about me, Maxxie-deary. I promise to let you know all about me after our wedding tomorrow. And I keep all of my promises. Can you keep your promise, Maxxie?"

"What promise?"

"That you will marry me and be my wife forever. You will never run away from me. You will never hurt me. And you will never send me away. Do all of that…and I will let Anwar live."

* * *

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	4. Chapter 4

**Anwar**

The night at Andy's apartment goes by as expected. It was just me worrying my ass off while Andy tried to calm me down a bit. Jury's still out on whether it did any good. Andy is a really nice guy, the type that is just too pleasant to get on your nerves or stay on them for long. As I tried futily to fall asleep on his couch, he just did his best to make me comfortable. Fluffing my pillow, getting me water, and just about anything else you could think of.

It was all very sweet but I still didn't get any sleep that night. I just couldn't stop thinking about everything. How Maxxie was gone. How I seem to have this weird gay crush on him. How I have no idea what to do now. My eyes felt like they hadn't even blinked when the sun finally rose. I tried to get off the couch but it was more bloody painful than I expected. Apparently I hadn't moved a single freaking muscle throughout the night. Son of a bitch.

After I finally managed to lob myself off the couch, I sat down to a breakfast that Andy made for me. It was scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast which wasn't exactly a special breakfast dish here in Britain but still thoughtful of Andy to make. I didn't eat much of it though. Andy noticed how preoccupied I was with staring at my food rather than eating it.

"Hey, mate, you can talk to me. You don't have to eat but at least say what's on your mind…"

"I can't…I have _way _too much shit on my mind to get out," I say. I wonder if Andy is homophobic. He seems way too nice to be but you never know with some people.

"Well I won't push you to saying anything but I'm sure you'd feel better if you did."

"We'll see, Andy. Maybe later…" Just then my phone rings. I check the contact and see that it is Detective Archer. "Uh, one sec, Andy. I gotta take this. It's one of the detectives."

I pick up my cell once Andy gives me some alone time. My breath lingered as I awkwardly tried to speak. Finally I said hello, hesitant to find out what this call was about. I didn't want to imagine the purpose.

"This is Detective Archer." I roll my eyes. I could tell that from Caller I.D., dumbass. "We checked into that Sketch girl you were talking about."

"And?"

"We visited her home and found that nobody was there except for her mother…who is dead."

Dead!? What the fuck did I just hear? "Sketch's mom is dead?" I ask incredulously.

"Yeah, by heart attack. It seems her daughter is missing."

"SO IT _WAS_-"

"Don't jump the gun, kid. I'll let you know when we find anything else."

"Wait-" He hangs up. I groan in frustration. Either way, I now get what happened. Sort of. Sketch has to be involved somehow, that much is obvious. But what the hell can I do about it? I don't know anything and it's not like I can join in the investigation. Its shitty times like these that make a guy wanna kick something or, more fittingly, someone!

"What happened, Anwar," Andy said after I hung up the phone.

"That bitch, Sketch…the creepy stalker one I was telling you about…she's missing."

"You think she has something to do with this?"

"No idea. Probably." I heave out a tired sigh and lower my head, using my hands to support my dead body from falling forward.

"You need to wind down, mate. Maybe have a smoke with me? Or even better, how bout we get drunk off our asses, eh?" Andy tried nudging me into life but I was too beside myself with thoughts and emotions I wasn't ready to confront. Uncharacteristically, I said no. Andy gave a sad sigh and it sucks that he's trying so hard to help me yet getting nowhere.

It's nobody's fault, though. Sometimes people just need to be left alone. I remember the time when I had tried to be there for Maxxie when the break-up happened. At first, Maxxie just wanted to be left alone and I couldn't do much to help him. Thankfully, he came around and we began to enjoy life again. He laughed and smiled and reminisced over how I kicked that bloody cheating bastard's ass right in the…hold on.

Why didn't I think about that yet? Maxxie's ex! Maybe James knows where Maxxie is!? At least it's worth a shot. There's not much else I can go on, after all.

I call up Detective Archer and I tell him about James. He thanks me for sharing with him what I could and tells me he'll update me whenever he can. We hang up. Just then, Andy starts putting on a leather jacket and a hat.

"Where you going?"

"If I can't enjoy a little hash and booze with you then I'm gonna see if my buddy, Daniel, will."

"Suit yourself, mate." The door closes and I flop onto the couch.

I get ready to sleep even though it's still early I know I'll barely get an hour at most. I doubt Maxxie is getting much sleep either.

* * *

Sorry I haven't updated in a while. I'm actually really busy since it's March Madness and I'm looking for scholarships, working on three other stories, preparing for a trip to Florida, and hopelessly job-hunting among other things :P This was a short chapter but the next one will be longer and will have more plot so yay!


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